My California Adventure - Day Four

Day 255
110 Days Remaining

I've been so busy since I got back from California that I could not spare any time to update you and finish relating the story of my California Adventure: Final exams loomed and - as always tends to happen - I got miserably sick pretty much the moment I got off the plane at home.  I've spent the last nearly two weeks in a fog of study materials and wrapping up my last few classes, coughing like crazy every night and not getting much sleep.  Still, I wanted to end the school year strong, so I forged ahead and managed to finish all my classes and take all six of my exams (one an oral Skills Check, the day after I returned from the US!) even through the haze of codeine and ibuprofen.  I'm still coughing quite a bit at night, but it's not as bad as it was - it must have been partially due to stress.  My grades should be back by the end of the week, but I've already gotten one final grade, and it was an A+.  So I feel pretty good about having ignored you all in order to focus on school for this vital last segment of first year nursing.  And now I'm finished all my first year classes; my six-week practicum is all I have left, and I don't start that for another couple of weeks.  That means it's time to get caught up on my blogging.  I don't want to leave you hanging for too long.  Back to California and the day of the Reality Rally race!

Saturday morning (April 6th) was gorgeous and sunny.  It was the first morning that I had woken up in California to find the sun streaming in through the windows - my anticipated vision had finally come through for me.  Feeling a bit lightheaded from having gone to bed so late the previous night, I slowly got myself ready and packed a backpack with the things I thought I would need on the race: running shoes; water; my hat and sunglasses; a thermos of green tea; a sandwich and granola bars for later.  It`s the mom in me coming out, I suppose.  I knew that the event technically started at 8am with an "autograph zone", where all the reality stars would be signing autographs for the general public, but I didn't see any reason to go to that.  The race started at noon, so I figured arriving around 10 would give me plenty of time to meet my teammates, get acquainted, and prepare to race.  After another quick breakfast in the hotel lobby (I skipped the waffles this time) I slid my feet into my flipflops and out to my rental car.

Driving around Temecula soon became very easy as I got familiar with the place, and with the car, but the first time I went somewhere new, some quick thinking was often required.  Fortunately the other drivers were quite friendly and let me in when I realized I needed to cross three lanes of traffic in order to get to my exit!  I made my way into Old Towne, parked, and leisurely walked up to where the event was all set up to take place.  The founder of the Rally, Gillian Larson (completely pointless to use a pseudonym for her; the Rally deserves all the publicity it can get!), saw me ambling up and came scurrying over.  "Your team is looking for you!" she admonished me.  Although she had planned on introducing me to them the evening before, she had been run off her feet and hadn't had a chance to.  "Come with me," she instructed, and we slowly made our way from the outskirts of the event to the registration booth where I was to get my team T-shirt and goody bag, as well as sign in.  It took a good 20 minutes, as Gillian was hugged and adored and asked questions and posing for photos every few feet!  She is an incredible woman.  Looking at the scope of the event, I was amazed at what she had accomplished.

When we finally got to City Hall and I met my teammates, it was time for the opening ceremonies.  My team consisted of myself, a young lady named Misa who had appeared on The Amazing Race with her sister, and two older gentlemen.  We got to know each other and were comfortable together very quickly, which I knew would be an asset, considering that although we may not move too quickly (Misa being the most athletic - well, really the only athletic one - of the four of us), at least we would be able to communicate well and work together.

The whole idea of the Rally is that participants are in groups of four: three "civilians" matched with one reality star.  No one knows who their "star" is until close to the day of the race, although if you want a particular star to be on your team, you can essentially "earmark" them and fundraise prior to the race.  If you meet the benchmark amount of donations, that star joins your team.  Each team was numbered (we were 17) and everyone was given the instruction that on "Go!" we were to move around the event setting and find people in yellow shirts who had clue cards with numbers on them.  Once we found the card with our team number, we opened it to find a map of Old Towne Temecula, which showed all the different Checkpoints we had to get to - in no particular order, and completing a challenge at each - before we could return to City Hall and cross the finish line.

We raced out of the event setting toward Old Towne and to the marketplace.  It was a good thing that all my team members had been there in previous years, because they a) knew where everything was, and b) had a pretty fair idea of in what order we should reach the Checkpoints for maximum strategic effectiveness.  The challenges at each Checkpoint were varied; for the first one, we had to dress up and perform various scenes from Huckleberry Finn (building a raft and rowing it uphill on concrete; shooting cans with a slingshot; walking an obstacle course) before we could have our card punched to show we had completed the Checkpoint. 

At other Checkpoints we had to climb a rock wall blindfolded; play a life-sized game of Memory; wander a museum in vintage clothing looking for the answers to six specific questions; dig up a sandpile looking for beanbags; complete puzzles; do a wheelbarrow race with the "driver" blindfolded; transfer water - using a sponge - from one bucket to another located about twenty feet away; write and perform a short film using several old fashioned words (such as "varmint" and "ruckus"); ride a mechanical bull; and answer a number of questions about wine (we failed that one badly - the other option at that Checkpoint had been to dress up and perform opera-style karaoke, which I badly wanted to do! - and had to toss wine corks at a glass jar for our penance).  My "mothering instinct" was very helpful, as the water, granola bars and sandwiches I had packed came in handy as the day wore on.  It took about four hours to complete all our tasks by the time we finally raced across the finish line...placing 45th out of 60 teams.  Oh well.  It wasn't about being a winner for any of us, and we had a blast.

After the Race, everyone headed back to their hotels for a quick turnaround time and then to another beautiful winery for the Red Carpet Celebration.  Another few hours of mixing and mingling with the stars, singing along to the band and sampling all the delicious food that was laid out for us to enjoy, and I was exhausted and ready for bed.  When I was once again invited back to the stars' hotel for an after-party, I declined, not wanting to seem like a groupie - and also incredibly tired - and made my way back to my home sweet hotel.  It was an early night for me as I tossed off my high heels and flopped down on my king-sized bed around 10pm.  It had been such an exciting and fun-filled day, and I knew that in the morning it would be time to check out, head to the stars' hotel for a last couple of hours of time with my new friends, and drive my rental car back to San Diego.  The dream was coming to an end...but every minute of it had been wonderful.

To be continued...

"MisaLisaLarryLeigh" - my fantastic Reality Rally team!

My California Adventure – Day Three

Day 242

123 Days Remaining

I'm on the plane on the way back to Victoria, via San Francisco. It's been a bumpy flight but it seems calm enough now to sit down and try to get you all caught up on my last few days. I don't even know how to express how amazing this entire trip has been. I'm so grateful for everything that I've experienced and everyone I've met.

Friday morning I tried to sleep in a bit, but the continental breakfast was calling me. I made my way down to the “breakfast room” and loaded up on homemade waffles – they had a pump that dispensed the exact amount of batter for each waffle and then each customer could make their own waffle with the big waffle makers. I didn't really want a waffle all that badly, but I had to try it out. It was really delicious. After breakfast I headed back up to my room and basically lazed around for much of the day; I knew that I was going to have a busy couple of days ahead of me and I wanted to take the opportunity to relax whenever I got the chance. I did make my way down to the pool and hot tub, and – even though the sky was quite overcast and it wasn't exactly what I would call California temperature out – I forced myself into the water for a swim. I really didn't want to say that I stayed at a hotel with a pool for three days and never once went into the pool!  I pretty much threw myself into the cold, cold water, swam the length of it, and jumped out to run straight for the hot tub.  Punching the button for the jets, I sank under the bubbling water with a sigh.

This is a good time to address what several of you have already asked me about – my Michelin Man. Yes, this trip was originally planned in order for Mitch and I to finally get the opportunity to see each other in person, and we had planned to meet in San Diego and spend a couple of days together before heading up to Temecula for the Reality Rally. Unfortunately, Mitch wasn't able to make it. I had known that was a possibility for a little while, yet I still had a small hope that he would somehow manage to come...but it didn't happen. Nonetheless, I knew that this would be a great adventure for me, and I also knew that I would enjoy myself regardless of whether Mitch and I got to spend some time together. I am a bit sad that now I don't know when our meeting will happen, but the time I had alone was invaluable and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I also feel very sad for Mitch, as he had a family tragedy that made any slim chance of his meeting me in California a complete impossibility. It was hard to be having so much fun while I knew he was going through something very difficult; my texts were alternating between enthusiastic and sympathetic. I wanted badly to be able to support him, while he was attempting to share my excitement for what I was doing on my trip, but we both have had a difficult time with it.

So this brings me to what I mentioned the other day: how every day of this wonderful adventure has found

me crying. Friday morning in the hot tub I sat and just thought about Mitch and what he was going through, and prayed again, asking God to guide me with what I should do with our relationship and also asking that He would support Mitch as he goes through this really difficult time. I asked that I would have clarity with how I should approach this relationship – because certainly, though it may not have a label, this is definitely a relationship of some sort – and that I will continue to be strong if it becomes apparent that it will not work out. I prayed that Mitch would have support in his grieving, and as he supports those close to him who have also suffered this loss. I cried thinking about the life that has been taken away, and how hard it is for the family who has been left behind. I also asked that God please never take my beautiful, incredible children from me.

My prayer time done and my fingers wrinkled and temperature elevated from the hot tub, I went back upstairs and spent a long, leisurely time getting ready for the Celebrity Reception that was to start at 6pm. I showered, put loud, fun music on my laptop, and carefully applied makeup and curled my hair. It really could have taken me twenty minutes, but I stretched it out for a couple of silly girly hours – when else do I have time to waste on something as petty as grooming?! - and finally slipped into the little dress I had found at Value Village and a pair of killer heels. Then I got in my little rented Ford Focus (oh how I love that car) and drove to the Wilson Creek Winery for the reception.

I was terrified. There's something about showing up for an event like that on one's own - and early - that can really kick the nerves into high gear. Add to that the fact that all the people I saw in the parking lot were in jeans or shorts (though the invite clearly said “cocktail attire”) and it added up to one incredibly nervous Lisa. I felt overdressed and conspicuous as I went to the Will Call table to receive the wristband that showed I belonged. I made small talk with the ladies manning (womanning?) the table, and they were encouraging. “There are lots of good-looking guys here, and you look gorgeous,” said one, “so get in there and have fun.”

It's a little easier to wander and mingle with a glass in one's hand (never mind the relaxing effect of the alcohol itself) so I purchased a glass of champagne (Wilson Creek's signature cuvée – absolutely delicious, and seeming fitting for the occasion) and planted myself near the greeters to make small talk and watch everyone wander in. I saw several reality stars right off the bat, but as it was still early, it took some time for them to arrive and for my nerves to settle.

And soon enough, I was in my element. I met so many people I had watched on television over the last few years, and they were all so gracious and easy to talk with.  I couldn't believe how much fun I was having, how many in-depth conversations I was able to have, how at home and comfortable I felt after just a few minutes.  I learned how to play Texas Hold 'Em.  I got kissed on the cheek by a reality celeb who said I was "irresistible".  I shared some things about my dating hiatus and my relationship with Mitch (although not referring to him by name) with people who were sympathetic and interested.  I ate strawberries run through the melted chocolate of a chocolate fountain.  And as the party started to wind down, several of the reality stars invited me back to their hotel for their after-party.  

After stopping in at my hotel to change into jeans and more comfortable shoes (I could barely walk after hours of trotting around on those heels!) I went to the resort where all the stars were staying, where the after-party was already underway.  We danced like crazy and I finally got home around 2am.  

After removing my makeup and sliding under the covers, I lay there with a stupid grin on my face.  This really is my life right now, I thought.  I can't believe it.  It was the stuff of many a Lisa-authored short story back when I was a teenager (except the New Kids on the Block were not in attendance this weekend - ha!).  It was so far removed from my reality but so exactly where I belonged at that moment.  For a moment I allowed myself to think of Mitch and feel slightly sad that he wasn't there with me, but I also knew that if he had been there, I would have been completely focused on him and not have allowed myself to fall so completely into the evening as I had.  I needed that.

With that, I drifted off to sleep, knowing that the next day was going to be a busy one.  Reality Rally race time!

To be continued.

My California Adventure - Day Two

Day 239
126 Days Remaining

Funny how I have found such peace and fun and adventure in these last few days, yet every day has found me crying.  Some people only cry when they are sad or upset; I tend to cry when I am overwhelmed by joy and amazement (as well as when I am sad or upset...and when I see a particularly touching TV commercial...oh, I may as well admit it: I cry easily!).  Yesterday morning, as I walked along the San Diego Ocean Beach pier, I cried, but it was a good kind of cry.

When I woke up in the morning I was disappointed to see the sun wasn't streaming through the windows.  In fact, the day was very overcast and decidedly gloomy.  Despite that, I got myself up and dressed and went down to have breakfast in the crowded little kitchen area.  Grabbing some eggs and pancakes, I sat down at a picnic bench and watched the San Diego news on TV while chatting with the other hostel visitors.  My guard was definitely up while in the hostel; my roommates were great people and very friendly (one was a Biology teacher - oh how I wished she could have stayed and tutored me for my Bio final that looms in the near future!) but there are a lot of seedy characters walking the streets of San Diego.  My friend Stoney laments the quality of men in Victoria...she should see the San Diegans I saw yesterday morning.  Or perhaps they are all visiting from out of town, as well..?

My hostel in San Diego

I struck up a conversation with the lady who was frying up the flapjacks and asked her what the best way to get back to the airport was.  I had to be at Avis Rent-a-Car right by the airport at 3pm to pick up my rental in order to drive to Temecula for the whole reason I am down in California in the first place: the Reality Rally event.  I had assumed I would take the same shuttle back to San Diego International that had brought me to the hostel in the first place (at a cost of $14, since the hostel wouldn't reimburse me if I was heading away from them), but the kind lady told me there was a bus that would go straight to the airport.  $2.25, please have exact change, they're just around the corner.  Great!  So, once I had securely stashed my belongings under my bed (praying that no one would steal my laptop and making sure iPhone, passport and all other precious ID was in my purse and strapped to my body), I ventured out onto Newport Avenue to see what I could see.

As soon as I stepped outside the doors of the hostel, I knew that I had to turn left to head to the beach.  I could smell the water; not with my nose, but with that instinctual feeling that all Victorians have of how to find the beach.  However, Kitchen Lady had said the bus was down the street to my right, so I had to ensure that I knew where to go for that before I allowed myself the leisure of checking out the sand and surf.  I walked down the street, turned the corner, and sure enough, MTS (Metropolitan Transport System) Bus #923 was there waiting, two bus drivers chatting away at the open door.  I made my way up to them and confirmed that not only did they go straight to the airport for $2.25, but they would drop me off right outside the door of the car rental agency.  One of the drivers handed me a schedule and said he would see me later that afternoon.

Plans for how I would get to my car confirmed, and after a quick stop at the bank to withdraw some American money (felt so strange to have $1 bills instead of coins) I immediately swung around and headed to the beach.

Surfers at Ocean Beach, San Diego

Despite the cloudiness of the sky, the surfers were out in full force with their bodysuits and boards ready to go.  On the walk down to the water, I stopped at Starbucks to grab a white chocolate mocha and get some change so I would be ready for the bus that afternoon.  While I made my way down Newport, I got a lot of smiles and compliments - I guess the huge smile on my face was very attractive to people!  It became evident to me that I needed to rein in my smile a little bit, as quite a few men (of the aforementioned seedy variety) tried to chat with me.  Very aware of how alone I really was in the case of any trouble, I clutched my purse a bit closer and made friendly, yet aloof, conversation.  I made my way up the many stairs to the pier and began the long walk out toward the ocean.

As I walked, I began to pray aloud under my breath.  Who knows if people thought I was nuts, but who cared?  Maybe it would keep the other - real - crazies away from me.  I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the water, the sand, the trees, the people...and the fact that I was really here, in California, where I have so often wished I could visit, on my own with no real responsibilities but those to myself.  I made it here on my own and I'm doing this - all by myself!  And successfully!  I had promised myself at the beginning of this year that I was going to take a real vacation on my own, and although it had seemed likely that it wouldn't happen - and I had let go of the possibility for a while - the opportunity had presented itself, and now it was a reality.  I walked the pier and thanked God for everything that He has done in my life...through all the mistakes and the pain and the hurt and the issues, He has made something incredible inside me.  I am so pleased and grateful for where I am now, in nursing school, with three amazing children, working toward a better future and enjoying every minute of the present as much as I can.  And now we have even been blessed with the promise of a new home, for me and my children, with no roommates!  I can't even believe that I have come so far.  The wind whipped my hair as I walked and prayed and my tears flowed.  It was beautiful and fulfilling.  And then the sun came out.

It's a beautiful day in San Diego

I checked out of my hostel at 11am and didn't need to be at Avis to get my car until 3pm, so I wandered the streets some more and then settled in at Starbucks to blog and enjoy my tea.  Fortunately the hostel didn't mind holding my suitcase behind the front desk, so I didn't need to drag that heavy thing behind me all over San Diego.  I sat in Starbucks for a couple of hours - amazing how we can waste time!  I never had a laptop or iPhone when I last travelled so I had no idea how helpful they would be.  I ended up watching the episode of Survivor that I had missed (due to being on a plane!) on Wednesday night, chatting with several people through Facebook and iMessaging, and checking email.  And then I picked up my bag from the hostel, walked to the bus, and made my way to the car rental agency.

That was the only time during this trip that hasn't gone completely smoothly...but all in all it was just a long lineup.  I chose to head straight into the line rather than visit the restroom first, so by the time I finally got through the queue about forty-five minutes later, I was bursting.  I dashed into the bathroom and then collected my beautiful little Ford Focus.  It took a while to figure out how to open the trunk (how sad) but after I drove out of the lot and found my way to the highway, it was smooth sailing all the way.  I drove to Temecula in a little over an hour, singing at the top of my lungs, a/c blasting. 

The only hitch was that the car was revving a little high - I couldn't figure out why it was consistently nearing 6 when I knew it should be much lower than that.  I wondered if it was a problem with the car itself or just this particular model, but couldn't do a lot to investigate while I was driving at 70mph (heehee...I figured out the mileage no problem!) so I decided I would check it out and read the manual when I had a chance to stop.  It was about forty-five minutes into the drive when I noticed the digital display on the dashboard and realized that I had been racing down the highway in low gear.  Ooooops.  Jammed it into D (which I thought I had already been using - I even double-checked on the gearbox, but I guess it was harder to see than I thought it was!) and the revs dropped to between 2 and 3.  Much better.  Good thing I was so observant.

I found my hotel in Temecula and got settled in, ordering room service, eating it on my king-sized bed while watching TV, painting my toenails and in general being a lazy bum.  It was great.  After a bath, I fell asleep at nine-thirty at night, and this morning woke up to another cloudy day.  But there's a lot more today yet to come, so I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.  Think I may go down to the pool now...

To be continued!

My California Adventure - Day One

Day 238
127 Days Remaining

I think that there can be nothing scarier than venturing out on your own and doing something that is completely outside of your comfort zone.  Yet there can be nothing more rewarding than pushing through and doing it anyway.

I am sitting in Starbucks in Ocean Beach, San Diego, California.  Yesterday was Day One of my California Adventure - the first time that I have ever traveled alone, and the first real vacation that I have had in many years.

Ocean Beach Pier, San Diego, California

I was really panicking on Tuesday evening - I was supposed to work that evening, but thankfully my scheduler called and asked if I would like the day off since in order to prepare for my trip.  What a gift!  I was so grateful for the opportunity to get things done, but I still found myself really pressed for time.  I had to research and write a paper for my Nursing 111 class, pack my suitcase, prepare everything, tell my roommates I am moving out (oh yes - I found a new home!!  But more on that later), and make meals for my day of travel.  I was so tired after I finished the paper (an hour and a half - record time - although I really have no idea what I wrote) that I couldn't focus on packing the suitcase.  My roommate Fig had to help me (although saying "I packed for China in an hour and it worked out fine" wasn't as helpful as he may have thought it would be) and I finally sank into bed, exhausted, around 11pm.  Thanks to a sleeping pill, I zonked out immediately until my alarm went off at 5am.

My day yesterday started with school - I had clinical practice, which essentially is a once-a-week rotation where I and my classmates go to a seniors' facility and work with the residents to help them with their activities of daily living (or ADLs, as we call them).  This is always rewarding for me, despite the fact that I have already been doing the job for several years.  It's a new perspective for me to look as though through the eyes of a nurse rather than just the eyes of a Care Aide, and although I knew yesterday was going to be a long day, I really enjoyed my morning with the residents.  I did a bunch of nursing assessments, such as checking blood pressure, listening to heart and lung sounds, and assessing sleep & rest patterns.  It was a good start to my day, despite getting up so early.

And then suddenly the practice was finished and I realized it was time to head to my dad's house with my suitcase.  I was strangely calm as my classmate drove me there and I unloaded my suitcase, although I had a moment of panic when Dad didn't immediately answer the intercom and let me in.  I thought he may have forgotten, and there I was standing outside his building with my suitcase, my carry-on, my purse and my stomach full of butterflies.  Finally, though, he answered, and when I got up to his apartment he had a lovely lunch of lasagna, salad and dessert waiting for me.  I felt very well taken care of...and it made me even more anxious about the notion of striking out on my own and not having anyone to look after me!

At the airport, Dad dropped me off at the Departures gate and hugged me goodbye. I suddenly clung to him as I recognized that once he left, I was going to be completely on my own. He drove off, I walked into the airport, and immediately had to put on my "I'm in charge" hat.

And it stayed on.  I went to my airline desk and checked in - paying $21 for my luggage! What is that?! - and then settled in to relax until it was time to board.  It was easy.  I had gotten through the first hurdle.  And as I waited I finished up a little bit of homework that is due the day after I get back, so now if I feel the urge, I can study for finals but not worry about finishing up assignments.  Just before I was about to board, I got a text from my pal Dent saying that he was in the terminal for work and would come say goodbye.  It was so nice to get a send off from one of my best friends.

Picture taken by Dent at the Departures gate

A quick flight to Seattle and I was again in Sea-Tac airport (my least favorite airport...not that I have a lot of experience with them) and had to go through customs and collect my baggage.  It all went so smoothly that I wondered why I had worried.  At the luggage carousel I struck up a conversation with a lovely girl from Victoria who was also travelling to San Diego, and we ended up spending the whole layover together.  She was a great conversationalist; she studies psychology and works in rehabilitation with people who have acquired brain injuries, so we never stopped talking.  With the two of us together, it was much easier to find our way through the big airport (really? we have to ride three trains to get from one set of gates to another?) and once we had located where our Seattle-San Diego flight was to depart from, we sat nearby in the airport restaurant and had a great dinner of sourdough bread and salmon poke (she had clam chowder, which looked amazing).  I talked her into trying my signature chocolate martini and we toasted our solo adventures and chatted for two hours.

Our departure time was 6:50, so at 6:25 we settled our bill and leisurely made our way back to Gate C11, where both our itinerary on the screen and our boarding passes had stated we were loading from.  As we started to get in line, I noticed that the Destination marker above the entrance said "Sacramento" and not "San Diego".  "Wait a second," I said; "we're not going to Sacramento." We double-checked our tickets and just as I started to get worried, my travel companion suggested we check the flight board again.  Upon checking, we discovered that our gate had been changed to Gate N3.  We had fifteen minutes until boarding at this time.  We looked at each other and then dashed to the train.

Three trains later we raced up to our gate to find that they were loading already.  We made it into the plane with just minutes to spare and congratulated ourselves for keeping cool heads.  We both were grateful that we had linked up - for some reason it makes everything easier to have someone sharing it with you.

The view from 30,000 feet in the air

Once we landed in San Diego at 9:35pm, my new friend and I found our way to the shuttle busses and said goodbye, but not before we promised to add each other to Facebook.  And with that, I was on my own again, but way less scared than I had been.  It was dark out, so it wasn't possible to see what San Diego looked like, but I could see the palm trees and it reminded me of my past vacations in Mexico and Florida.  I was instantly relaxed.

The complimentary shuttle took me straight to my hostel, a funny little place right near the beach where I settled into a six-bed room where one girl was already snoring away in her bunk.  I got washed up and undressed as quietly as possible, signed into my email to send my friends and family a quick promise that I was safe and everything was all right, and then fell straight to sleep, proud of myself, excited about what the next day would bring, and at peace.

To be continued!

The Motherlode of Love

Day 233
132 Days Remaining

Sometimes I wonder if my children have any idea - any idea at all - of how very much I love them.

I think that they know that I love them, but I really have no clue whether they see how very much of my life is based around them, their happiness, their needs and wants, and their schedule.

It's hard, because in the aftermath of our splitting up, the kids ended up spending most of their time with their dad.  This was partially due to the fact that I initially had a very small place where there really wasn't room for three children, and also partially due to my own emotional difficulties (see my earlier post, Admitting It is the First Step, and its following post, Borderline Genius, about that).  It was not a good situation for any of us, and with my extreme emotion versus their dad's level-headed calmness, of course they would gravitate more toward wanting to be with him.  When Crumbs and I started dating, it only made the situation less comfortable for everyone.  I intended to keep Crumbs completely separate from my life with the kids, but they found out about him, and it cemented in their minds the thought that I would rather be with him than with them.  Nothing could have been further from the truth: I desperately wanted to be with my children...I just didn`t know how to emotionally deal with the fallout of my marriage to their father.  He knew that I was emotionally unstable, and he wanted to protect them from me and from any foolish mistakes I was making at the time.  As a result, when I finally had a large enough home for the kids to come and live with me at least part of the time, they wanted to be back at the family home with Dad.  Things have changed over the years (we've been apart seven years now, and lots of healing has taken place), but even though the kids spend a lot of time at my place, they still in their hearts feel that "home" is the house they live in with their father.  That can be hard to hear, sometimes.

I warn you all again how I warned you in that post: "After any relationship ending, a grieving period is necessary.  After a marriage ends, the first priority is the children - get over yourself for whatever time it takes to be there for them...you can cry and wail when you are alone, but be strong for your kids."  This is hard-earned and regretful advice!  I was not in that place.  I did not allow myself a grieving period.  I was not there for my children the way that I should have been.  It was torture to go to see them in the house that used to be my home and was now a "bachelor pad", and instead of sucking it up and showing them how much I loved them, I allowed myself to be overwhelmed by the feelings that attacked me every time I crossed the threshold.  I did not make my children my first priority, and that is my biggest regret.  Over everything I have ever done stupidly and impulsively and irrationally in my life, not being there properly for my children is the only thing that I absolutely would change if I possibly could.  It forever altered my relationship with my daughter, and even talking to my youngest son today I realize that he has been affected by it as well.  I think my children believe that I would rather not have them in my life.  That`s the saddest, saddest - and most incorrect - thing that they could possibly think.

I wish that there would have been some way to prepare myself - and my babies - for the extreme emotional aftermath of the end of my marriage, so that I could have better been able to support them in their needs and things would perhaps have turned out a lot differently between us.  As it is, my relationship with my oldest - my beautiful daughter - is tenuous.  The boys were younger, so it appears that it hasn't affected them as much, but still, the damage has been done.  I suppose the only way to ensure that they would have been completely happy would have been to stay with their dad...but he and I were both so miserable that I can't imagine that still wouldn't have affected them negatively.

Now my children are almost grown - well, the two older ones, anyway - and I see them getting ready to step into adulthood. Sometimes I look forward to them being old enough to commiserate with, and for them to understand how difficult life as an adult can be.  I have hope that my daughter will eventually be able to see things from my point of view, although my unwillingness to ever say anything negative about their dad in their presence means that they will never truly hear the whole story.  Maybe just seeing how hard it is to make ends meet as a grown-up, and how difficult relationships can be, will help them to have more clarity.  Although I don't wish a bad relationship on any of my children - I hope they find their true love young and stay happily married forever! - I see the possibility of it happening and hope that I can be there for them as they go through it.

Sometimes I'm just terrified that the kids growing up means that then they will forever be separate from me.  My daughter is almost eighteen.  She graduates from high school this year.  She was ten years old when her father and I split up and has since become a beautiful, strong and independent young woman.  Her heart is still hurting from how I wasn't there for her all those years ago, and she resists my attempts to hold her or have any kind of meaningful talk with her.  It's painful...not as much for my own selfish reasons - although of course I long to be able to just cuddle her until she can feel my love for her reaching into her very heart - but because I know that deep down, she is longing for her Mommy and feels like she can't trust me enough to allow me to be that for her.  I can see it in brief moments of vulnerability when she just wishes that I had always been available to her.  I ache for her loneliness for her mother.  I want to give her what she has been hurting for all these years, and she is at this point unable to allow me in.  What if she grows up, moves out completely, and takes that lonely heart away with her?  What if I never get the chance to really be the Mom that she so desperately needs, because of those foolish decisions and painful moments from years ago?

My children mean everything to me.  There is no way to express that with everything I do, in the forefront of my mind is the concern of "how will this affect the children?"  There are things that I could never even consider doing at this point, because of my children.  Even if they were full-time with their dad and never stayed at my house, I still need to be in the same town as - and preferably less than a ten-minute drive away from - them.  When they are away from me I long for them.  When I pull into the school parking lot on a Friday after school and get to see my eleven-year-old after three and a half days without him, my heart swells with the joy of loving him so much.  When my daughter calls me and wants to hang out - even if it's just because she needs me to pay for something for her! - I jump at the chance to spend time with her.  When my six-foor-two 15-year-old wraps his arms around me and says, "I love you, Mom", I relish the feel of his lanky boy's body and the rare words of affirmation that somehow, despite everything, I still have given these children a good life.  They are, for the most part, happy, and even if that means I have them for less of the time, and in some ways less of them, that is still my ultimate goal.  I want my kids to be the best people that they can be.  I know that even though I messed up, many, many times, I still have had a part in creating and raising up these three beautiful people.  They are who they are - good parts and bad parts - partially due to my influence and my love.  My determination to come out the other side of a bad marriage and keep my kids intact has paid off to a point.

One day they will be grown.  One day they will have children of their own and know this impossible pain of seeing your babies hurting and being unable to stop it...whether they are in pain from someone else's actions, the children's own choices, or from decisions they as parents have made.  It is so true what Elizabeth Stone wrote: “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”  It's the hardest thing I've ever done, the most painful, the most overwhelming, and the most rewarding.  But they really have no idea.

L

Oh, Do You Know the Michelin Man? (Part II)

Day 230
135 Days Remaining

So...you all want to know what's happening, you say?  Everyone is wondering a) who this mysterious "Michelin Man" is; b) what's happened since I last posted about him, and c) whether his presence in my life means I am giving up on my dating hiatus.  It's rather early to answer these things, but I will do my very best to address at least some of what you are all very curious to know.

Many of you have contacted me asking for clues and hints as to who he is, and I really don't want to spill the beans.  It's so early in the process, and frankly - as I said in my first post about him - it doesn't matter at all who he is in this celebrity-obsessed world.  As I've gotten to know him I often forget that he is well known; in fact, I am sometimes caught by surprise with that fact.  To me he is now becoming someone who I care about, who I want to get to know better, and who makes me smile.  Every single day.  So let's just continue to call him Mitch - I'll drop the Michelin, since he's now so familiar to me and I only think of him as himself, rather than a persona that has been shown to the world - and I will tell you what I am thinking and feeling about this man.

What's happened since I last posted about him?  Well, we have continued to talk, in text, email and on the phone, and things have been moving along and growing steadily.  It amazes me how strongly one can come to feel about another person when they haven't even met each other.  I think about him all the time; I want his opinions on things; I look forward to hearing from him; I feel like I miss him even though we've never actually touched.  It's incredibly romantic in some ways - the distance means that the only way we can really reach each other is through words, and words just happen to be my love language.  He does have a definite way with them and that is a huge attraction for me.

Although the way it started may have been unusual, the development of this "relationship" was purely organic and natural, though admittedly swift.  And yes, he does know about my dating hiatus, and it's certain that the distance makes it easier to stick with it at this point, but honestly, I don't know what is going to happen.  And I think that's just fine.

I do have to admit that I have thought this relationship through endlessly.  I mean, there are a lot of factors to consider if we are going to end up together (and of course I am romantic enough that I do imagine that happening...trumpets blasting in triumph as we scale the mountains of adversity and distance and everything works out perfectly and we remain blissfully in love until the end of time!), and when you get to my age - and have wasted a lot of time already - you don't enter into a romantic relationship without considering the possibility of marriage, or at least a future.  If there's absolutely no way for it to work, it's better to pull the plug sooner rather than later.  I shouldn't invest the time in someone if I'm not going to end up with him - I want to find the man who wants to be with me forever.  If it's Mitch, then that's going to be a hard road.  I (finally) believe I'm worth it, but will he?

So it goes without saying that Lisa the overthinker has been wracking her brain trying to see how all of this would pan out.  Would Mitch want to move here (I doubt it)?  Would I have to move to the States (I couldn't at this point)?  Will he wait while I finish my Nursing degree (I'm not quitting!)?  What about the kids?  What about the exes?  What about money and time and stress and loneliness and sadness and a long-distance relationship?  Is it worth it - could it be worth it?

Lisa the Romantic and Lisa the Overthinker agree that love is worth anything it takes to get there.  It may not be pretty and it could be a difficult road, but I am always that eager optimist who is loyal and loving to a fault.  I know that I would do anything for the man I love...but the man I'm looking for will also be willing to do anything for us.  I don't know if that's Mitch.  It's fun to think that it could be.  It's actually fun to think about how we could get past all the obstacles that the circumstances of our meeting - and our statuses as a mom and a dad to several children who must always be considered in the equation - ensure will be absolutely present in our journey.  I've been lonely long enough - and I recognize in him enough characteristics of the man that I want in my future - that I daydream about how we will jump those fences.

Something I had to continually remind myself of while I was working on getting over HB

That being said, I am still keeping my eyes wide open as I begin to take some baby steps toward the end of my dating hiatus, whenever that may be.  Mitch is becoming very important to me, but I have yet to meet him and spend time with him in person.

That will happen exactly one week from today when I step off the plane in California.

Yes, it's time to see if the strength of what we are beginning to feel over the wires of the Internet and the textiverse can be translated into something when we are actually in one another's physical presence.  Thus, all plans regarding how many months of each year I'll spend in Canada versus in the States, and how often he can visit here, and how long he will have to wait for me, and how well the kids will get along with each other, have to be put on the back burner.  It's entirely possible that I will see him and that spark won't be there.  It's also entirely possible that he's built me up in his mind as something much more than I am, and he will be disappointed.  I don't know how I will react if that happens - I'll likely be sad, but I hope I won't be devastated.  I am so pleased that I've been able to feel this way again...it has been so long for me. However long it lasts, I am going to allow myself to enjoy it.

And truthfully, I am a little more worried about the other possibility: the possibility that I will see him and everything that I am already feeling for him will be exponentially multiplied (love squared?).  If that happens, then I have no idea where we're going to go from there.  That means that Lisa the Overthinker will come out in full force and join Lisa the Planner and Lisa the Eternal Optimist to try to come up with a plan that will work to make this happen.  

So as for the third question: does his presence in my life mean I am giving up on my dating hiatus? No.  It does not.  It also does not mean that I will carry on until August 9th simply for the sake of saying I was on a dating hiatus for one full year.  My purpose in embarking on this yearlong journey was to search myself and get to know who I am; what I want (and need) in a man - if, indeed, I need one at all; what I don't want in a man; and how to recognize and get out of it when I am in a bad or unhealthy relationship.  If I do find the right man, yes; I will still want to wait and finish the year off (hey, extra time can never be a bad thing) but I also don't feel as though I need to.  I'm not trying to make a point with my dating sabbatical.  I'm trying to live my life the best way that I can.  The fact remains that I do want to share that life with someone.  If I by some amazing twist have found The One (oh, Lisa the Romantic, settle down!), I'm not going to let go.  I'm going to hold on for the rest of our life together.

And if I haven't found "him", then life goes on.  Maybe a little bit less enthusiastically for a while, but it will.  And I'm way better equipped to handle that disappointment than I would have been 230 days ago.

L   

My Happy List

Day 225
140 Days Remaining

These days I've been spending way more time on Facebook than I should be, mainly because I finally gave in and got myself an iPhone (I hate conforming...but I love the phone!) and it's just too easy to find anything and everything to distract oneself from real life.  In these weeks leading up to final exams, I've been finding it very difficult to concentrate on school and studying, and I'm not really sure if the lack of focus is the reason for the constant Facebook scouring, or the result of it.

So, instead of being filled with Biology vocabulary, systems, processes and definitions, my head rather unfortunately gets topped up with memes, pictures of food, and statuses ranging from boastful to disparaging.  I have more invitations to stupid games than I could ever play, I know way too much about some people's private lives, and I have yet another way to throw myself out there and tell everyone everything about myself.  You'd think this blog would be enough!

Yet, on occasion, something very worthwhile will pop up in my Facebook News Feed, and I appreciate these moments.  Most of my favorites are grammar-related ("i before e...except when you run a feisty heist on a weird beige foreign neighbor" being one of my favorites), but often others will make me take a moment to really think.  Tonight I came across a YouTube video that was being shared on Facebook, speaking of pausing in life and just really being present in the moment.  It was called "What's on Your Happy List?", and I'll share it here.  It's not necessary to watch it if you don't feel like it, but the essence of it is to stop and think about what really makes you happy...not the possibilities that may come in the future, but the things that really fill you with satisfaction, happiness and contentment (are those all similes?  Am I repeating myself?  Where's my thesaurus?).  The Facebook friend who shared it started her own Happy List, and it was beautiful to read.  I decided that I would work on one for myself.

 The beginning of my Happy List: 

The smell of rain

The first bud of new flowers in the spring

Sinking into a welcoming tub filled with mounds of bubbles

That first sip of a perfect cup of tea, all sweet and milky

Seeing someone’s eyes crinkle at the corners when they smile

Dancing to “Y’All Ready For This” or “The Rockafeller Skank” in my bedroom in my underwear

Hearing my kids laughing together

Seeing my kids playing together

Walking through a snowy night and seeing happy scenes lit up in every window as I walk by

My son standing with me at the front of the church holding my hand as we lead worship together

Reading a message that shows me I am cared for

My silly little bedtime routine of turning back the covers, lighting some candles, and spraying the pillow with Deep Sleep Spray from The Body Shop

Having coffee with old friends and feeling like we haven`t missed a single moment

Making food and serving it to people who are appreciative of it

My very rare indulgence of watching a chick flick in my jammies, eating ripple chips with French onion dip and drinking a very strong rum ‘n Coke

When someone just “gets” me

Those jokes that aren’t even very funny but somehow tickle my funny bone, so that I am helpless with laughter for no real reason while everyone else just shakes their head at my ridiculousness

Getting a stellar mark on a report card, test or assignment

Singing a song that I wrote and hearing the audience clap for me

When someone loves a gift I have put a lot of thought into for them

Getting lost in playing the piano

Chills running down my spine when Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman sing “Time to Say Goodbye“`

When I need to hear from God and I flip open my Bible and it lands on exactly the right verse that I need at that moment, or a song on the radio echoes what`s in my heart

Praying with my friends

Writing a story or a blog entry that just works

A clean kitchen

A pile of fluffy folded towels

A hug from my daughter – few and far between, and all the more precious for it

Holding a baby

Performing at karaoke and hitting every note

Remembering love...and looking forward to feeling it again

- - - -

What's on your Happy List?  Give it a try; it's a good way of reminding yourself how much we have to be grateful for every day.

L